Sunday, September 11, 2011

Signs (Story Sunday)

Signs

They found the expensive sailboat
drifting on open water, its running lights fading but still on.

The search and rescue crew had been sent
out as soon as the mayday had come in, female voices screaming in panic, and
though it had only taken them an hour to find the Adriana, they saw no one as
the crew pulled along side.

From their taller ship, the three men
could see the deck clearly and their lights went over things in eerie
discovery. There was a cooler, open and still half full of melting ice and
drinks, and in the damp wheelhouse, a frosty beer nestled in the captains
chair. Between a 9 mm and a baseball bat.

The big gauges showed half a tank of gas
that could run the Adriana's engines for hours, a radio that echoed their
request for permission to come aboard, and even a lifeboat in tow, a bloody
smear across the yellow tarp. Of people, there was still no sight.

The rescue crew surveyed these things
uneasily as they boarded the small sloop and the strange stillness of both the
air and the ocean under them kept their voices to low mutters.

“Just like the others.”

“Then we won’t find ‘em.”

“Here we go again.” The Captain muttered,
waving his nervous men toward the bunks below. It was the third abandoned
vessel they’d investigated this month and that was just his crew. The coast
guard was covering that many rosters each week.

Despite the high numbers, no one from the
government was paying any attention yet.

“Too busy with oil.” He sneered,
listening to the suddenly alien sounds of the water.“Haven’t considered it wasn’t no accident.”

The man looked at the rippling water,
feeling the rhythmic motions of the boats riding the light waves. There was a
deeper noise under the liquid, almost like a hum, and the lifelong sailor
realized he no longer felt comfortable on the ocean.

“Nothin, Cap.” He nodded at the men
coming back up, hadn’t expected anyone either.

“Nothin’s outa place. Table set, food on
the stove just startin to bubble.”

“Just happened. Right before we got
here.” The second crew member stated and the Captain waved a hand, feeling more
jittery by the second.

“Back on board. Call it in.” The two sailors
went quickly, sharing relieved looks, and the Captain lingered, sharp, ocean
wise, blue gaze reading the scene again for his own report.

The weapons said these people had prepared
to defend themselves but had not been given the chance. He narrowed in on the
damp seats and deck, noting the lack of high seas or stiff winds and his unease
grew. It had come from the water. Or the sky.

As if the waves had picked up his
thought, the hum suddenly grew louder in his ears and the man shook his head at
the unpleasantness of it. It was like nails under water on a chalk board.
Wrong.

He backed toward his coastguard cruiser
with the noise getting louder and he would swear later not to have heard the
hungry whispers of the water, telling him he would taste so gooooooooodddddddd!

The Captain flung himself aboard his own
ship with desperate movements that brought his men running.

“Get us out of here!” He shouted,
unhooking them from the ghost ship, and the sound of their engines eased him a
bit as they roared in response to being manhandled.

They were yards away seconds later and
gaining speed before the Captain realized the humming sound was gone. He slowed
his breathing, never talking his eyes off the ghost ship as his First Mate
joined him on deck.

“You call it in?”

“Radio’s down again.” The Captain nodded,
regaining control of himself as the small ship got further and further from
view. Loosing the radio now was happening so much, the fleet was about to
update all its systems. Was it connected to that hum? It had been like spoiled
radio waves, nauseating and scary, and in a moment of unusually emotion, he
confessed to the man watching with him.

“I think they're here.” His voice
lowered. “They don’t want us to know yet. I think they let us go, so they can
keep on gathering. They know we won’t be believed, no one will investigate.”
His first-mate said nothing at first, watching the old man control himself
better than most of their members did. When he finally spoke, it was with a
surety that made the Captain’s eyes swing to his for a brief second.

“Soon, they’ll attack. Openly.”

Instead of the scorn or laughter he might have
gotten from someone who hadn’t been out on the ocean, the Captain only nodded.

“We need to get ready.”

“Had the same thought. So have the
others. They’re not the only one‘s who’ll gather and fight.” The Captain nodded
again, glad to see the ghost ship finally fall out of sight.

“Yes, we will. The governments may be
caught off guard but those who live on and around the water won’t. We’ll read
the signs.”

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